Finally

It's like something clicked with me this week.
I'm finally realizing how I can utilize all of the skills I'm learning.
The things I wanted to do, I can do, and more!
I feel so inspired. So driven.
I don't know where I'm going, but I'm getting close.
The scary mist of uncertainty is dissipating.
I WANNA GO GO GO!
I want to blast my imagination on a piece of paper and see it through.
Because I can now.
I can imagine something through.
I can make it happen.
My vision is so intensified.
I'm so happy to be where I am. Who I am. What I am.
Good things come to those who kick and scream and cry.
And wait.
I waited.
Good things have come.

I'm Here

In Montreal for my fourth day. First Quebecois hangover courtesy of my first Quebecois party where I drank my first Quebecois beer and "vodka and a pickle."

How to Say Goodbye

A friend of mine moved today. He visited me at work to get one last coffee before he left. He hugged me tight and told me that out of all of his friends, he's known me the least longest, but he'll miss me the most.
I cried. No, weeped. One last hug and he was gone, leaving me in a puddle of melted mascara and discarded espresso grounds. It's not that I'll never see him again. It just won't be soon, or often.
I hadn't realized until that moment just how quickly we're all moving.
I'm leaving in 13 days. Time has been slipping past and it still hasn't felt like anything's changing.
Very soon I'll be hundreds of miles from everyone I know. I wish I wasn't such an ugly crier.

Uncommon Sense

I've been having a lot of people come to me with their problems recently. I like being the shoulder that gets cried on and I'm glad that my friends trust my opinion, but lately it seems like everyone's problems are less problematic and more idiotic. Maybe I'm just extremely self-aware and in control of my actions, but there's a few things I've been having to tell people that, to me, just seems like common sense.
1. If you don't want people to use you, don't let them. Say no.
2. If you don't want to be taken advantage of, don't get naked around drunk men.
3.If you want men to respect you, don't sleep with them before you know their name.
4. If you don't want your friends to hate you, don't sleep with their boyfriends.
One thing I need to learn: Be a friend, not a therapist.

Like a rock.

I've been learning about being strong. By strong I mean independent, self sufficient, and confident that you can fulfill your own life until someone who is perfect for you comes along. By learning, I mean having moments of frustration and hysteria where you cry in Tim Hortons or at work (twice) because you know what you are worth and what you deserve and you know you're going to have to hold out for a while until you get it. Meanwhile, people around you are rubbing your face in the fact that they have it (or think they do) and you're just going to have to listen to that and not let it bother you because when you get it, it's going to be eight thousand times more magical than it is for everyone who has it now, but for the time being, you've just got to stay strong.
Learning is messy business. Mascara doesn't like learning.

All You Can Do Is Laugh

Not to sound like a 15 year old girl, but I had a moment last night where all I could think was, "This is so my life." For those of you who like to laugh at others' expense, you're going to love my autobiography. Apparently I've learned how to skip past being upset and go straight to seeing the hilarity in circumstance. Or maybe I'm just in shock.

Things I found on my run today:

1. A woman in a bikini laying spread eagle on a picnic table at a sports field nowhere near the lake.
2. A black thong in a ditch along a road less traveled.
3. My sweat glands.

What A Week

I've experienced so many emotions this week, but the ups have outweighed the downs.

I've lost something, but gained a good friend.

I got accepted into a school.

I got a kick ass tax return.

I've spent time with people I miss and love.

One day I'm on the floor boards, and the next I'm dancing on the ceiling.

Friends

I think I'll become a nun. That seems to be the easiest way.

Sun Hands

Today was a good day.
One of the ones that are a completely normal day, but for some reason, you come home significantly more satisfied.
Wanna know what happened?
I scooted to work at 5:15AM in the rain.
I opened. Bright eyed and bushy tailed because I actually got a full night's sleep.
I had a very deep sociological discussion with a customer as the sun was rising.
I realized that I'm one of those people who go above and beyond the call of duty.
I laughed a lot, made weird noises and stupid faces. <got paid to do that
Work was slow, so I played volleyball with ice cubes.
I braved the wind and took a sunny scoot downtown.
Bought a green tweed blazer from a vintage store and 2 tix to a concert this Sunday.
Texted a boy to see if he was home, he didn't reply.
Scooted home.
He replied, and asked me to come over.
We chit chatted for some time while he shined his motorcycle and then we went inside and he taught me how to make French onion soup.
We set up the trampoline in his backyard and hopped in the sunshine while reminiscing of our childhoods.
Funny how I'm barely an adult and I can look back on my childhood like it was long ago.
Sat in the sun, let the wind blow my hair around, laughed. A lot.

Like-Like

Friday night I went out for drinks with some friends. We went around the table asking each other if we had ever been in love. Frightfully girly, but yes, that was our pub talk. Last night at work, while I was cleaning the pastry case, I was thinking back on this and had somewhat of a profound thought. I found it profound at least.

Love is the only universally accepted religion. It's been socially recognized for centuries. Every language has a word for it. It's the epitome of enlightenment. But, does it exist? It's such a common idea that I had never questioned it before. What if there isn't such a thing as love?

Don't view this as pessimism. I'm perfectly content with my "love" life right now. It's just an idea. Love is so undefinable. So circumstantial. So difficult to find. So aloof. Scientifically, it's a chemical reaction. Yet, everyone is looking for it like it's this greater being that they can only connect with through a "lover." It's like any other religion. Socially accepted as this huge cloud of cherubs, rose petals, and musk. Scientifically dismissed. Believed by everyone. Even other religions believe in it.

Is love the super religion? Is it the thing we're all searching for, but we get confused and think it's Jesus or Zeus or some other beardly God thing? Or is it all hogwash like rest?

What is love?

Interv-Ew

Tomorrow I hop on a bus for Vancouver. Saturday I have my meeting for The National Theatre School's production program. I have no idea what's in store for the interview. eek.

Fell Off

Last night marks the second Saturday night in a row that I cried myself to sleep.
Sometimes I think I'm above the weaknesses of being a girl, and then WHAM I'm balling in my bed because of the tiniest occurrence. I consider myself level headed. Right  now I feel like I'm losing mine.
I like roller coasters, just not emotional ones.
Too happy to sleep, too upset to eat, too hungry to sleep, too tired to eat.
Sex change please.

Day 5

Day 5 of The White Stripes tribute.

Day 4

Day 4  of The White Stripes tribute.

Day 3

Day 3 of The White Stripes tribute.

Day 2

Day 2 of The White Stripes tribute.

Day 1

Day 1 of The White Stripes tribute.

I'm bound to pack it up and go away.

Something minimally earth-shattering has occurred. On February 2, 2011 The White Stripes announced on their website that they are no longer continuing to make music together.
Just a side note, they're my favorite band.
Now, this doesn't come as a surprise to many. They haven't put out an album since 2007. Jack has been writing and producing with other artists all over the place. Meg didn't do much in the first place. Again, it isn't surprising, it just sucks. There is a very nice letter to the fans on their website (whitestripes.com) if you care to read it.
As tribute to the band which made me care about music in the first place, I have decided that for two weeks I will dress in White Stripes inspired outfits. 14 days. One day for every year the band was together.
For once someone in mourning can wear more than one colour.

Peace oot.

24 degrees is the forecast.

I might even need sun screen.

California dreamin' is coming to an end.

I'll be there soon enough.

Bus, train, feet.

Air isn't on the menu?

Looking over my bank statements, I think I'm going to take up anorexia. I spend all of my money on food.
Think about it. If I stop eating I'll be able to afford all the clothes I want and I'll be able to fit into them too!
Fool proof, right?

Pearls and Bow Ties

My friend had a themed New Year's party. She couldn't quite pick a decade, so she just called it "vintage." By the countdown we had gathered 8 people. Not all of them stayed for long, but they all looked dashing. Suspenders, bow ties, ribbons and pearls were out in full force. I'm itching to get the film processed. My New Year's kiss wasn't with the boy I wanted it to be. The boy I kissed wanted to be kissing another boy, too. Instead of whining, we took a dip in the hot tub, which was actually rather cold. We huddled for warmth and gazed at the stars, then decided that a cold hot tub was no fun at all. We reminisced of 2010, and drifted off to sleep.